Bath Time
by jtav
Summary: After a difficult day in the courtroom, Sae and Yusuke relax. Disabled!Sae AU


Madarame would have called working as a courtroom sketch artist prostitution and a waste of Yusuke's talent. Perhaps that's why he takes a perverse pleasure in applying all his technical skill to the job. There is a challenge in sketching people in only a few minutes, in choosing which moments are significant enough to document, in giving his audience a sense of who these people are and why they matter. His eyes wandered to the defense table. And there are other compensation as well.

Sae's posture is almost too straight and she grips the edge of the table lightly. He frowns. The trial turns on some arcane point of defamation law that Yusuke doesn't quite understand now matter how many times Sae explains it to him. She's spent more than one night at her desk, pouring over case law and memorizing precedent. He can't help but worry for her, no matter how effective Takemi's medication is or how happy she is. The image of Leviathan imprisoned just as thoroughly as her cognitions of him and Makoto are seared too deeply into his mind.

Yusuke frowns. He is being a fool. Worse, he is being a bad artist, drawing the eye to frailty when he should be showcasing strength. Sae's eyes and skin are bright despite the fatigue, and there's a slight crease between her brows the way there is when she's one clue away from finishing the crossword puzzle before any of them. The goddess of justice, bringing all her intellect and persuasive power to bear to call the powerful to account. The wounded but proud crane, still the most beautiful creature in the world.

The woman who is going to hand the Special Investigation Unit its first defeat in seventy years. He must harness everything he knows of shading and line and form to create a fitting tribute. Neither his love nor his art will accept anything less. His world narrows to her and the pen in his hand.

A soft hand touches his shoulder. "Yusuke," Sae says. Her voice is gentle but insistent with no hint of irritation. "It's time to go."

Yusuke blinks. The spectators around him are making for the exit, and the judge is already gone. Annoyance creeps along his skin. He no longer needs to be reminded to eat, and Sae and Akira have explained rules of personal space and polite conversation that Yusuke has memorized like equations, but he can still lose himself in the act of creation. "My apologies."

That irritates her. Her mouth is a thin line. "No apologies, remember?"

No apologies. His focus and formality are not the moral failing Madarame had tried to make him believe he possessed. They are not even a disability like Sae's pain and limp. They are a difference, no more worthy of apology than being left-handed. At least that's what the psychologist tells him. He wonders if he'll ever believe it.

They step out into the press of people. The din of Tokyo in all its chaos and vitality wash over them. People glued to their phones, neither knowing nor caring who he and Sae are. Sae's posture loosens as they walk, even as she grips her cane and her steps become slower and more careful. Discarding the armor and weapons she needs to conquer a courtroom that still sees infirmity and calls it weakness. Becoming not more human—never that—but more vulnerable. Softer. Another thing he wants to draw. If Yusuke is capable of a _Saiyuri_ , it will be in capturing all her facets at once.

"I think I really might win this case." Her eyes brighten a bit more. "The only injury to Sato's reputation was in taking those bribes in the first place. And after all these years, the SIU still thinks its job is to protect the powerful."

"It makes one long for the days of Phantom thievery, does it not? Fortunately, a truly brilliant lawyer is about to humiliate them in a way we never could." Yusuke can't hide his smile and doesn't try. Victories in court for the defense are almost unheard of. Sae having one against the supposedly invincible SIU will transform her from talented to legend.

"You're becoming a flatterer, Kitagawa. You know how I feel about flattery." Sae is trying for stern, but the crinkling of her eyes is a giveaway even for him.

"It does seem rather inadequate. Perhaps a...treat would be more appropriate?"

She stops and raises an eyebrow, curious and a little apprehensive. "A treat?"

Yusuke's hands chill. He's been planning this for days and he's fairly certain Sae will enjoy it, but one can never be sure. He wishes, again, for Akira's natural facility with these matters, but there's nothing for it and Sae is watching him carefully. He takes a deep breath. _Eye_ _contact. Speak slowly and carefully._ "You're familiar with the couple's bath in Shibuya? I took the liberty of reserving a spot. If you like? I understand the water is quite medicinal."

Sae raises an eyebrow, and for a moment Yusuke is frightened that he's misunderstood one of those social equations. But then her lips twist into a small smile. "Bath, hm? Were those your sole plans for the evening, or do I need to take something?"

He exhales. "I wouldn't object to a little physicality." That's an understatement. These last few weeks have left them with little time together. He misses the feel of her pressing against him, the way she gasps when he twists his fingers just so, the way sex can bring down all the walls in his mind and he can simply feel. Yusuke misses her. "If you like," he repeats.

Sae glances down at her leg. The brace is almost imperceptible beneath her suit to the untrained eye. "I don't think I'm capable of anything too athletic, but I'd very much like to."

"Then consider this a prelude."

"Then consider this a prelude." Yusuke twines their fingers and squeezes, as much intimacy as he dares on a public street. "Our treat and reward for everything we've endured."

"Our reward." She squeezes back and smiles. It's a small, private, dangerous smile that never fails to make Yusuke shiver. He wonders sometimes what he's done to deserve her, why this beautiful and brilliant woman wants to marry him of all people. But mostly he's grateful. "I'll meet you there in half an hour."

Half an hour later, Yusuke stands in the antechamber of the baths. Unlike most erotic establishments, it's almost defiantly elegant and understated. The tiles are blindingly white. Men and women from all walks of life stand in pairs, talking to their partners and pretending not to notice the other patrons. Yusuke wants to stare at them, commit wrinkles and nervous twists of the hand to memory for future pieces. He allows himself only five seconds per person. Another rule.

Sae's footfalls echo behind him and he turns. Her eyes are almost imperceptibly glazed, but she's smiling and the lines are not so deeply etched in her face. The medication has done its work. "Ready?"

They walk to the nearest attendant. She's a girl about his own age with delicate features and bright eyes. Yusuke clears his throat. "I had a reservation for Kitagawa at eight thirty. Are you ready?"

The girl looks Sae up and down, curiosity and apprehension plain to see on her face. Yusuke feels Sae withdrawing into herself as the warm room grows a little colder. Yusuke bites his lip. Just once, he would like to go a day without being reminded that he and Sae don't fit in to society. The streets might be marked for the blind and there might be handrails for most onsen in the city, but getting people to see those who deviate mentally and physically as regular people is harder. "Our reservation?" Sae prompts. Her voice is steel.

She snaps back to attention. "I—yes, madam. Right this way. Will you require anything?"

"No, thank you."

They head down a narrow hallway, the attendant opens the door into a small changing room, bows, and is gone with almost impolite haste. Yusuke sighs. "Not the most auspicious start for a romantic evening."

"I don't believe in auspices." Sae's voice is light, but there's a false note to it. "Tonight is about us and making up for all those nights you had to go to bed while I did trial prep." She sits on the shower bench and motions for him to sit beside her. "They were very lonely, boring nights."

She makes quick work of the buttons on his shirt. Her hands are burning on his chest. Yusuke shivers and swallows. He is ten years past the Phantom Thieves, and he and Sae have been dating for four years, but he still can't quite believe he is an object of desire. But Sae's eyes are dark as she traces the lines of his muscles and as she pushes the fabric from his shoulders.

Yusuke helps her get the shirt the rest of the way off and reaches for the buttons on her blazer. It's an old ritual, undressing each other. An easy intimacy born from his need to learn to pace himself to avoid exhausting Sae. And, he thinks, a sign of trust. He is still gaunt from a life of neglect; her leg was twisted and mangled in the same car accident that killed her father. _But... It's all right. I trust you. You and you alone can see me like this._

They take their time undressing, stroking, fondling until Yusuke is nude and Sae wears only the brace. He kneels before her and undoes the straps one by one. He runs his hand lightly over the scars to wipe away the day's sweat. The first time he'd seen them, Yusuke had blanched and blathered some nonsense about them being badges of honor for surviving the assassination attempt. Sae had nearly punched him for that. No special treatment, she had insisted. No lingering. Only little services.

Still, Yusuke does his best to be gentle.

Sae exhales. "Help me into the water?"

"I have a better idea." Yusuke scoops her into his arms with a grunt and stands, mindful of the angle of her leg. He sucks in a breath. Sae isn't heavy, but she's heavier than the weights Yusuke is accustomed to. "This looked easier on the television."

"You can put me down, you know."

"But I've been thinking about this for weeks." He inhales and exhales again. He took down a god; he can carry Sae ten meters. "Perfect romantic evening."

Sae's lips twitch, but she puts her arms around his neck and snuggles into him. Yusuke carries her into the bath proper. The air is warm and the water steams. A dish with water and soap sits at the edge of the pool. Yusuke manages the last few steps and sits Sae down at the water's edge. He pants. "I think that went quite well."

Sae raises an eyebrow. "Even though it didn't quite go like on television?"

He shrugs. "Pale imitations of reality. My job is to capture truth. And I will take straining to carry my real fiancée over and insubstantial fantasy any day."

Sae bites her lip her lip and fixes Yusuke with a familiar look that means he's said something that might be true but that ordinary people don't say aloud. She catches his hand in hers. "I love you," she whispers.

Yusuke swallows. One of these days, he will figure out what he did to deserve Sae. He squeezes. "I love you, too." He smiles and hopes it conveys a fraction of the love and desire he feels for her. "But I believe I promised you a bath, and we aren't even in the water yet."

Yusuke gingerly lowers himself into the water. It envelops him, and the heat never fails to make him gasp. Such a petty, commonplace luxury that most people took for granted, but he'd had to hoard every yen as a teenager, and Madarame had professed never to have the desire. Sae leans against the stone and stretches. Perhaps it's the light or optimism, but her bad leg seems to be moving more quickly and easily. Tension leaves her shoulders, and she throws her head back and closes her eyes. "Good?" he asks.

"You have no idea." Sae opens her eyes and looks at him. "Come here."

Yusuke does, and the next thing he knows, Sae's arms are around him. She's slippery; he's slippery. It doesn't matter. Her mouth is as warm and insistent as ever. Sae alternates between quick nips and long kisses as her hands wander and explore his body. Yusuke tries his best to match her movements and explore her in turn. The hollow of her throat, the swell of her breast, all the little sensitive spots he knows by heart but that have been too long neglected. Their limbs tangle together, and for long time Yusuke knows only the feel and taste of her.

She does pull back, eventually. Her pupils are large. Yusuke doesn't have how much of it is arousal and how much is the medication. Maybe it doesn't matter. "You are an excellent kisser, Kitagawa."

Yusuke preens. "Likewise, Niijima."

"I think you deserve a reward." Her gaze lands on the soap dish. "I could soap you up. It happens often enough in Shinjuku."

"Sae!" He knows what happens in Shinjuku—the soaplands where women lather men for money and engage in prostitution by another name. Sae in that world is as improbable as Morgana becoming human. "You. I don't—"

"Do you want me to?"

Sae touching and caressing him. Playing with him. Yes he very much wants that. "I don't want to dishonor you."

"Dishonor?" Her voice turns serious. "The only time there's any dishonor in it is when the girl is being forced. I'm not. I like that I can be a defense attorney and come home and be your lover or your model or whatever else. Why do you think I want to marry you?"

And now she's said something true that isn't normally spoken aloud. They can be vulnerable, erotic, or even shameless, and it doesn't negate the work they do during the day. They can show all their facets to each other. Yusuke can't think of a better sign that two people should get married. "Do your worst."

"I intend to," she says. "I intend to."


End file.
